


Cherry pie

by devilscut



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Birthday Party, Deputy Derek Hale, Grinding, Kissing, M/M, Mates, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mistaken Identity, Strippers, Underage Drinking, implied paid sex acts, mention of blow jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 21:44:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilscut/pseuds/devilscut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Much to his disgust new Deputy Derek Hale is dispatched to a party for excessive noise.  However, when he arrives the reception he gets is not what he's used to and when he encounters the drunk birthday boy, one Stiles Stilinski, Derek's never felt this way about anyone especially not so quickly.  </p><p>So what's a guy to do when the hot birthday boy starts whispering naughty things in your ear.. and then you find out exactly who his Dad is - your new boss.</p><p>A tale of mistaken identity, strippers, werewolves and love at first sight (although neither of them will admit to that last one just yet).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry pie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [New_Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/New_Boy/gifts).



> This is gifted to New_Boy in thanks for all his support and advice since I started posting here. You are a sweetheart.
> 
> I've always wanted to write a Deputy Derek fic and I finally have. This is set in an AU where supernatural beings were near enough wiped out by the administration of President Gerard Argent which approved mass genocide particularly of werewolves. Later Governments worked to repair the damage he had done which is why Derek's struggled to find a law enforcement department/agency prepared to take him on seeing as he's a very rare Alpha werewolf.
> 
> I've tagged in 'mildly dubious consent' because Stiles is under the influence of alcohol, however, Derek is aware of it and tries to behave responsibly under extreme provocation. :)
> 
> Erica and Boyd are about Derek's age 23/24 whereas Isaac is around Stiles' age 17/18, Isaac always seemed younger when compared with the other two on the show to me even though they were meant to be the same.
> 
> Unbeta'ed

[Cherry Pie - Warrant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RisWH8iMLdE)

 

Deputy Sheriff Derek Hale scowls at the cars he walks past making sure he remembers models and plate numbers.  They are parked so close and haphazardly they’d forced him to park half a block back and if he happens to have a photographic memory and would remember this inconvenience when he was out on patrol looking for speeders and infringing drivers well...too bad.  He didn’t care if it was petty, he was pissed off.  Being the new guy, he’d drawn the automatic short straw on this call out and being made to park so far away when he wants this over and done with.  He growls his irritation.

 

He didn’t need to look at the address in his notebook to know which house it was.  Sight unseen he could hear the music blaring into the warm night air and as he rounds the hedge row and can see the Martin house lit up like a fucking Christmas tree he barely controls the urge to snarl.  

 

He was going to be telling a bunch of teenagers, a bunch of kids to turn their music down.  There’d been a half dozen phone calls complaining about the noise and he’d been dispatched to lay down the law.  This was only his second week on the job here in Beacon Hills and much as he enjoyed it, this part wasn’t what he had envisioned.   

 

He’d been wanting to join law enforcement for such a long time, but with wolves being one of the were types listed on the Federal Government’s Supernatural Species Endangered List (SSEL) after the bloody genocide of the Gerard Argent administration of 8 years ago, there weren’t many Departments willing to take him on.  No one wanted to be responsible for the safety of a rare Alpha werewolf even one that had finished top of their class at the Police Academy.  The PR backlash if anything happened to him would be crucifying. 

 

The only one willing to give him a chance was the Sheriff of his family’s hometown in California that they’d run from all those years ago after their home and half the pack was destroyed by Argent’s own daughter and his supporters.  So at 23 he’d left New York, left behind his Uncle and two sisters to start anew in Beacon Hills and so far he’d not regretted that decision.  He even had a loft which he’d been able to buy outright with part of the compensation money that a later Federal Administration had passed a bill for.

 

Sheriff John Stilinski was a good man, one that Derek admired even after only knowing him for such a short time.  He was smart, no nonsense and his intuitive investigative skills were almost bordering on psychic ability backed up by a tenacious terrier-like refusal to let go or back down.  A big sigh escapes him, but this...he looks up at the lit up house and hears the duf duf music and he remembers what the Sheriff had told him when he first started, that this job entailed 70% of the ordinary and mundane, 20% weirdos and whackjobs and 10% of sheer terror and actual fear for your life. 

 

He wondered what category this one belonged to.

 

Ringing the doorbell he can hear yelling and screaming from the inside and he tenses wondering if there could be more to it than he expected, but as he listens closely he can hear laughing and talking as well.   When no one answers he puts his finger to the button and presses and holds, the distorted tinny chiming bells inside ring over and over...and over some more to the tune of ‘Edelweiss’.  Really.  He hates 'The sound of music' with a passion.  There are howls from inside and he can distinctly hear someone threaten to rip the doorbell off the wall.  He's obviously not the only one.  Derek swaps fingers and smirks as he continues to press even if it threatens to make his ears bleed.

 

Eventually the door swings open and a pretty brunette stands in the doorway.  He releases his hold on the button after letting it chime one more time.  When she sees him she scowls as fiercely as...as he does.  What the hell?  Derek can feel his forehead crease deeply in confusion, because it’s not the usual reaction when someone sees his uniform.  It’s either fear or wariness, warranted or not.  What comes off the girl in waves is pure annoyance.

 

“You’re late.”  She reaches across and grabs him by the arm and drags him into the house.  Derek’s so surprised that he lets her guide him in even though he doesn’t normally let strangers touch him.  “You were meant to be here two and a half hours ago.”

 

What the...?

 

“Look Miss...I’ve been called because of the noise-"  Derek begins only to stop shocked when she rounds on him fiercely and snaps at him.

 

“He’s drunk now thinking you weren’t coming.  So by God you’d better give him a good show or that five hundred won’t be leaving with you tonight.”  The look in her big brown eyes promises severe retribution if he doesn’t deliver...deliver what he’s not exactly sure, but how had he even possibly thought they were doe-like...nuh uh he’d seen friendlier eyes on Discovery’s Shark Week.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I need to speak to the property owners, Mr or Mrs Martin, about this party and all the noise.”  Derek says firmly. 

 

“Oh my God...Lydia said you’d be in full character mode and you look like the real deal, but I...I just didn’t expect...actually I don’t know what I expected, but she knows Stiles’ taste better than anyone and now I think about it a grumpy, scowly hot cop would be just his thing.” 

 

Derek sneers.  Grumpy, scowly...oh she ‘aint seen nothing yet.  This is just capping off his night.  “Look get me one of the Martins before I shut this party down right now.”

 

She leads him to a huge lounge room wall to wall with kids, many of them draped or sprawled over each other in that loose-limbed fashion that teens of this age seem to do naturally.  Some of them are making out and the rest are standing around and talking.  He wonders how they can hear each other with the music pounding so loudly. 

 

What he finds strange is how they are taking his presence here so calmly.  He gets a few curious looks, but that’s it. No one’s nervous or fearful and Derek can’t comprehend how bizarre that is.  Not that he wants anyone to be afraid of him, it’s just that there is usually at least one person that feels guilty, whether real or imagined when his badge and gun come into view, but...nothing.  One girl even gives him such a salacious wink as she licks her lips and looks blatantly at his groin that it’s only with extreme concentration that he barely manages not to blush before looking away.

 

“Wait here.”  The brunette girl says as they stand in the open doorway.  Flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder she fixes him with a stare as penetrating as any Desk Sergeant’s he’s ever encountered.  “If you hurt him in anyway, I will find you and you won’t like what I do to you I can promise you that.”

 

With that last cryptic statement she stalks off, walking through the crowd who she sneers at like they are beyond distasteful and past an open unlit fireplace above which hangs a banner which says in huge colourful letters “Happy 18th Birthday Stiles”.  She disappears through another doorway to what he thinks must be the kitchen.  Stiles.  What the hell kind of name is that he wonders?

 

He can smell alcohol, but there’s no cans or bottles he can see.  Against the far wall is a long table where the scent is concentrated and he can see a huge punch bowl with plastic cups scattered around it.  There are also empty platters where more substantial food must have been served, a carved up birthday cake, its red icing starting to congeal and Derek sighs...if they’re drinking at least they’re eating something with it.  Bowls of chips and nuts are scattered around the room and he can see that there’s a large plastic tub with melting ice in it and poking out of the icy slush he can see bottles of water and soda.  Thankfully, it seems somebody knows about being a responsible host.

 

Inhaling deeply, a thread of something else teases at his senses.  A scent that's subtle enough it's taken a couple of minutes to draw his attention, but now that it has he can't ignore it...frankly, doesn't want to ignore it.  It smells so good.  Nose and lungs filling with a curious blend of tart and sweet.  Citrus, like sun-ripened oranges hanging from the tree and the richness of natural vanilla beans.  His mouth floods with moisture, watering at the scent that leaves him strangely hungry, but not for food.

 

A strange squawking noise coming from the other room draws his attention, sometimes being a werewolf can come in handy, then he hears a male voice, a strangely appealing one that pitches wildly up and down with the male’s agitation, slurring slightly.

 

“Waddaya mean he’s here?  Hmmph...fuck that Allison..I’ve been waiting all this time...18 fucking years and he can’t be bothered to show up on time.” 

 

“Stiles come on...he’s here now and he’s kinda hot.”  Derek recognises her voice as the pretty brunette and can feel his face start to flame because if he’s not mistaken they’re talking about him.  “Even if he’s a little bit weird and rude, I think he really believes-"

 

“How hot is hot?”  The man interrupts.  “Are we talking about my eyes having an orgasm hot or...”

 

“Stiles.  You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”  Says another male voice.  It’s softer, with a gentler tone to it.  “Have the dance if you want, but as for the rest...I didn’t think it was a good idea, I still don’t...wait for someone special, it’s worth it.”

 

“Aww...you are so sweet.”  Allison says.

 

“No, you are and I’ve got such a sweet tooth I could eat you up.”  says the soft male voice.

 

Derek wants to gag. 

 

“Oh my God will you two stop it before I throw up."  Derek silently nods his head in agreement.  "No, no. I’m doing this Scott, but I’m not going to be easy...in fact I’m going to go out there and give him a piece of my mind.”  Derek rests his hands on his gun belt and his eyes are glued to the door between the two rooms wanting to see the young man who sounds so pissed off. 

 

When he sees the kid walk or is that stagger into the room he feels a punch to his gut and even though no one is near him, he has to glance down at his abs to make sure he hasn’t actually been physically assaulted.  It’s him he doesn’t doubt it, the source of this incredible scent that he could almost swear he knows it instinctively almost like he recognises it on a cellular level.  This...this Stiles person...he’s in dark tight fitting jeans that showcase his long, long legs with nicely shaped thighs and wearing a red button down shirt that clings to his body and what a body...Derek swallows hard as he takes it all in.  

 

Slender hips and narrow waist that leads up to a broad chest and those shoulders and arms...holy shit...his sleeves are rolled back revealing strong forearms that are corded with defined muscle and hands that are large with long, thin fingers.  A tickling heated sensation pools deep in Derek’s groin and he struggles to suppress the boner that wants to pop out when he thinks about being pressed against that chest and those arms holding him tight, those slender fingers wrapping around his dick.

 

It’s nothing compared to the way the room seems to spin around him when he sees the man’s face.  He’s beautiful, there’s no other word for him.  His dark brown hair is short and slicked up and spiky on top.  His throat is a long pale slender column emerging from the collar of his shirt which sits wide open like an invitation and Derek wants to plant his face there right at the hollow at the base of his throat and scent him...and lick him and bite him over and over...fuck, fuck...what is wrong with him?  He's never been affected by anyone like this before.

 

Derek has to grip his gun belt hard to stop himself from going over there and tracing the angular jaw dotted with tempting lickable moles with his tongue.  A wide red mouth with a delicious little cupid’s bow on the upper lip is parted into an ‘O’ of surprise and as Derek flicks his eyes over every inch he sees that this Stiles’ high cheekbones bracket a cute tip tilted nose.  His eyes are a rich, warm brown with specks of amber that catch the light and glitter brightly at him as they look him over from head to toe.  A deep ruddy flush stains the boy’s cheeks as he stares and keeps on staring at Derek.

 

“Oh my God...I’m easy...I’m so fucking easy, I forgive you...I don’t care if you are two and a half hours late...I forgive you.”  Stiles says as he walks towards him swaying slightly with every step until he gets within a couple of feet before he promptly stumbles over seemingly nothing but his own intoxication and flails wildly before he face plants directly into Derek’s chest. 

 

“Oww..”  Stiles rubs his nose with those mesmerizing long fingers before pressing his face against Derek’s shirt and his breath catches at the sensation.  “Hard.”  He mumbles, before happily patting Derek’s chest with those same long fingers as he looks up at Derek through those long sable lashes that frame his gorgeous eyes, hungry, needy eyes that can’t disguise their unspoken plea not to reject him. 

 

Even though there’s heaps of people here Derek doesn’t get the feeling that this kid is intimate with the majority of them, because hiding in the kitchen during a party just screams popularity...not.  There’s just a couple of them that follow his progress with concern in their eyes, the rest just watch like it’s entertainment put on for their benefit.  Stiles might know more about rejection than what appearances might first suggest and Derek has to clamp down surprisingly hard on the urge to roar at these kids for hurting the boy in front of him.  The almost instinctive need to protect him is staggering in its intensity.

 

Looking down Derek can see and feel Stiles nuzzle into his chest, can feel his warm breath penetrate the cotton of his shirt, the sensation of it against his skin is electrifying and his dick twitches.  With both hands he grabs Stiles’ arms and delights in the firm, taut muscles of his biceps underneath the red shirt and tries to gently push him back slightly without hurting him, his fingers flex letting him feel even more flesh and he swallows with difficulty, his throat tight.

 

“Are you hard everywhere?”  Stiles asks him seriously before frowning, then giggling uncontrollably as he realises what he’s said and what it sounds like. 

 

 _Not yet...but it wouldn’t take much._   Derek winces at the thought, because he shouldn’t be enjoying the way this just barely legal teenager feels against him so much.

 

“I’ve come because of the noise.”  Derek says sternly, trying to regain his composure.  To be the professional law enforcement officer he is.

 

“Music...not noise and I’ve **_come_** because of it too...many, many times.”  Stiles leers at him, waggling his eyebrows in such a cartoon villain way that Derek rolls his eyes.  “In fact where’s your music?  Actually, don’t worry I can provide something I got your playlist, let’s get this show on the road...so do you live up to your nickname?” 

 

Stiles reaches out and grabs hold of Derek’s dick, he palms the front of his uniform trousers and moulds his hand around the instantly throbbing, aching length.  The heat of his hand penetrates the fabric and Derek makes a noise which even he has to admit sounds like a squeak, as the warmth wraps around him and sends sparks shooting through his abdomen, making the taut muscles there twitch and dance under his uniform shirt.

 

“Christ.”  Derek blurts out as he’s hit by a wave of lust so strong that the need to throw this kid over his shoulder and carry him off to somewhere dark and secluded has him taking a step closer before he manages to rein it back in.

 

“Fucking hell...that’s big.  So that’s why they call you ‘the human Tripod’ huh?”  The heavy lidded look that Stiles gives him has Derek struggling to catch his breath.  Why isn’t he fighting the kid off?  Pushing him away at the very least, but he can’t seem to bring himself to do it, remembering the pleading he saw deep in his eyes.  Then there’s the most selfish and wrong reason of all, it feels too good to stop, Derek doesn’t want it to end.  When Stiles starts to rub he can feel a rumble start low in his chest and he wants to snarl and roar out his pleasure, but he can’t, God, not here. 

 

Stiles leans in close and presses his face in tight against Derek’s, their jaws brushing delicately as he unintentionally scent-marks him as he whispers in his ear.

 

“You’re going to let me suck you off, aren’t you?  Lydia said you might if you liked me.”   

 

Derek can feel his whole body go taut, his eyes must surely be bulging they feel so stretched wide as everything inside him is screaming _YES  YES..  GOD ALMIGHTY YES.._

 

Stiles chews on his bottom lip, looking worried.  Breath hot against Derek’s cheek and jaw.  “You do like me don’t you?”

 

Derek can only nod ‘yes’ his throat feels paralysed, head dizzy, drowning in the incredible ripe scent of him.  Stiles pulls back and stares at Derek before smiling.  It’s breathtaking and Derek feels dazzled by its brilliance.

 

“That’s amazing.  Where do they go?”  Stiles asks and Derek wonders if this is all some weird-ass dream or if he’s dropped down a rabbit-hole and he doesn’t know what anything means anymore.

 

“Where do what go?”  He manages to rasp out.

 

“Your eyebrows.  They just disappeared.”  Stiles watches his face intently.  “Oh...oh they’re back...how did you do that?  When I said suck...wait there they go again.”

 

Derek tries to relax his forehead and let his eyebrows resume their natural position on his face instead of trying to join and merge with his hairline.  Stiles lifts his hand and with his forefinger he slowly strokes the bridge of Derek’s nose and over his eyebrows, his expression soft and open as he follows its path with his huge golden brown eyes.  It’s a gentle caress and it has Derek huffing out a sigh of contentment.  He can’t remember the last time anyone touched him in such a way.

 

“Come on Stilinski...let him do his thing...get your clothes off hot cop.”  A snarky male voice calls out from across the room.  Stiles whips around falling back into Derek’s chest as he sways.  Derek can feel the heat rise up and settle into his face when he feels Stiles’ ass brush against his groin.

 

“Shut up.  None of you are getting to see any of this.”  Stiles waves a hand at Derek.  “It’s my birthday...and my lapdance so screw you Greenberg.”  He frowns again, looking grumpily puzzled.  “And who the fuck invited you anyway?”

 

Turning to Derek, Stiles pushes against him, forcing him backwards while Derek tries to get his brain to function.  It’s not until Stiles has pushed him away from the open doorway and through another door into a huge study that Derek feels capable of speech.  Looking around blindly he registers that the walls are lined with bookcases and there’s a large desk by the huge window where the curtains are drawn across, there’s a sitting area comprised of a big couch and coffee table in front of it that he walks toward before stopping.

 

“Stilinski...like in Sheriff Stilinski?”  Derek asks hesitantly.  His stomach lurching wildly.  Please God...no.

 

“Yeah, my Dad.”  Stiles nods as he leans back against the door and locks it.  “Don’t wanna talk about him now...wanna see what you’re packing Deputy.”  The wicked smile he aims at Derek has his heart crashing wildly in his chest.  Stiles grabs a remote from the coffee table and points it at the stereo system that sits on one of the book shelves.

 

He falls back onto the couch and looks expectantly at Derek as he sprawls, those long legs splayed wide open, his hands resting on his belly.  Heat burns in his eyes and Derek doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to resist him.  That is until the music starts to play and Derek knows...damn well knows that his eyebrows may not be coming down for a very long time when he hears...

 

Dirty, rotten, filthy, stinkin’

She’s my cherry pie

Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise

Taste so good make a grown man cry

Sweet cherry pie yeah

 

Seriously.  Derek wonders how is this his life?  It’s taken him a while to get what’s going on, not surprising because he thinks his brain stopped actively working the moment he scented Stiles and he’s torn in so many ways he really wants to bolt out the door, but his main concern though is Stiles and not hurting him.

 

Stiles rubs his hands up and down his jean clad thighs like he’s got sweaty palms, it draws Derek’s eyes to his groin and he silently groans as he sees the bulge at the apex of his thighs.  Stiles’ face is flushed a deep red and Derek can see a bead of sweat trickle down his neck to pool at the hollow at the base of his throat.  He has to turn away for a moment before he jumps on the boy and licks him from head to toe, he’s so fucking hard it physically hurts.

 

“Holy shit...your ass...fuck I’ve never seen an ass like...oh my God...you better do something because I’m telling you it’s going to be all over real soon.”  Derek turns around and groans long and loud when he sees Stiles palming his dick through his jeans, pressing down on it hard to stop himself from coming and doesn’t that just make his own dick throb in sympathy.

 

He sits down gingerly on the coffee table trying to adjust his pants so his dick won’t feel like it’s being strangled.  It’s one of those sturdy square shaped ones with drawers in the sides and Derek rests his forearms on his knees and laces his fingers together in front of him, half for something to do while he thinks and half to stop them from visibly shaking.  He can feel Stiles’ big golden eyes watching him curiously.

 

“You’re so beautiful.”  Stiles whispers and Derek can hear the way his heart beats, can scent his arousal, the rich sweet scent of vanilla that floods the air and knows that Stiles really truly does think that and something vulnerable and damaged deep within him uncoils and loosens its grip on him.

 

“Stiles...I can’t do this.”  He doesn’t get to say anymore when Stiles leans forward and interrupts, his voice high and scratchy.

 

“What?  Is it the money...isn’t it enough?  I can get more...I...I...”  His head droops and Derek can see the way his hands clench and grip at the fabric of the couch cushions.  He lifts his head back up and Derek can feel a piercing pain shoot through his chest when he sees the red rimmed eyes that glisten looking back at him.  “Please.”

 

“It’s not what you think Stiles.  I’m not what or who you think I am.  My name is Derek Hale and I’m a Deputy Sheriff for the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department.”  Derek slams down hard on the little forbidden thrill that had gone through him when Stiles had pleaded with him and concentrates on the teenager in front of him.

 

“Lydia told me you like to role play...but I didn’t think you would go this far.”  Stiles’ face has hardened and Derek can see a bit of his father in his expression then and he doesn’t seem as intoxicated as he had earlier.  “I know all the Deputies at the station.”

 

“I’m not playing with you Stiles.  I’m not a stripper or a...a lapdancer.  I’m new to the Department, this is my second week.”  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls outs his wallet and flips it open to his Departmental ID and holds it out to the young man sitting dejectedly in front of him. 

 

After a long moment looking at him searchingly Stiles takes it and Derek can see the dawning realisation when he recognises the validity of the card.  Stiles’ face crumples and he presses his hands to his face and peeks out between his fingers as he examines the uniform that Derek’s wearing.  He can see him zero in on the departmental badge on his shirt sleeve and the gun belt, only now seeing them for the genuine article.

 

“Oh crap...crap...’m so sorry.  Oh my God...I grabbed your dick..er...your genitals.”  Stiles’ voice is muffled and he hunches over his forehead practically touching his knees in his humiliation.  “I’ve never...touched anyone else like that, ever.” 

 

Derek can feel his wolf keen and his insides twist with pleasure at Stiles' admission of inexperience, until he sees Stiles’ complete embarrassment and he doesn’t know how it happens but he finds himself on his knees in front of the younger man and with one hand under his chin, he lifts Stiles’ head until it’s level with his.  Stiles’ eyes look downwards, not meeting his.  The expression on his face is pure misery and Derek can’t stand it.

 

“Stiles, I’m going to do something now that I shouldn’t...not while I’m on duty, not with a teenager only just 18 who’s had too much to drink, but...I can’t help myself.”  Derek dips his head slightly and presses his lips to the wide mouth that trembles under his.  With a loud groan Derek can feel his control slip out of his grasp and he’s surging forward, his lips parting and his tongue seeking entrance into the younger man’s when he feels the tentative stroke of Stiles’ tongue against his own in reply he’s lost...lost in the heat of his mouth, the feel of his strong untried body beneath his and the sounds of Stiles’ moans of pure pleasure.  Derek wants to howl in triumph, that he’s making this young man feel so good.

 

The press of his gun belt digging into his hip brings him back to reality and he finds himself sprawled on top of Stiles, pressing him into the couch, his face buried in Stiles’ throat scenting him intensely as he licks and sucks at the tendon that’s stretched taut as the younger man strains under him.  Their dicks rubbing against each other with every thrusting movement of their pelvises, he growls knowing that he has to stop this before it goes any further and it wouldn’t take much. Stiles rakes his nails down his back and fuck...it really, really wouldn’t take much at all.

 

With his greater weight and strength he simply holds the younger man tightly and gradually he can feel Stiles start to calm.  Stiles turns his head slightly and looks up into his face.

 

“You’re stopping...now.  My God...you’re an asshole.”  Stiles grinds out between clenched teeth.  “If my balls explode I’m holding you accountable.”

 

“I have to stop...or I won’t be able too.”  Derek presses his mouth gently against Stiles’ when he sees the teenager ready to argue the point.  “Please I want to do this right.”  He can see he’s caught Stiles’ attention now and carries on.

 

“Not while I’m on duty...not while you’ve still got God only knows how much alcohol in your system and I’m not sure of your capacity to give consent, not while your friends are out there wondering what we’re doing in here, not until we know each other better and definitely not until we’ve spoken to your father.”  He can see Stiles’ eyes getting bigger and rounder with every word, a pang courses through him.  Maybe he’s misread this whole thing.  Maybe his feelings for Stiles, although so new and intense in such a short time, are not reciprocated.

 

“Have I made a mistake Stiles?  Do you not...is this just a hook-up, you’re not interested in me in a more permanent way?”  He can hear the quiver in his voice and there’s no way he can stop it.  He’s not felt this way about anyone before.

 

“Are you kidding me?  Are you fucking kidding me?  This isn’t some sick kind of joke or me getting ‘punked’.”  Stiles looks at him suspiciously and Derek can only shake his head ‘no’.  Stiles examines his face intently and Derek tries to put into it every bit of feeling and emotion he can, Stiles can obviously see something there when he says quietly.

 

“I...I have to warn you, I’m not very experienced...uhm with sex and stuff...I’m still a vir-”  Derek drops his head and plunders his mouth wildly, his tongue delving deeply to draw Stiles’ taste into his mouth.  Lifting his mouth off the younger man’s, Derek’s breathing is heavy and laboured.

 

“That’s good...that’s really good.”  Derek growls out possessively giving in to the urge to grind his hips into Stiles’ just once before forcing himself to pull back.

 

Stiles’ pupils are blown out and his eyes look dark and seductive as he smiles dazedly up at Derek.  “I also need to tell you, I’m a bit of an asshole and I’ll probably piss you off no end.”

 

“That’s alright I am too.  If you can stand up to me all the better Stiles.”  Derek rubs his nose affectionately against Stiles’.

 

“Does this mean you want to be my boyfriend?”  Stiles asks, his cheeks flushed and his eyes sparkling.  Hearing the younger man say it out loud, that he could be the boyfriend, the other half of such a beautiful person, it sends heat sparking through Derek’s body, he can feel the tips of his ears burn as he nods ‘yes’.

 

A pounding knock on the study door has them both jerking up to look.

 

“Stiles, Stiles...open the door.”  Derek doesn’t recognise the female banging on the door.  “That isn’t-”

 

“Thanks Lyds, I know.”  Stiles calls back loudly.  The hallway goes quiet.

 

“Oh.”  The female voice says sounding obviously disconcerted.  Stiles snickers and rubs his cheek against Derek’s and he feels warmth flood through him as the teenager unknowingly scent marks him.

 

Derek hears multiple footsteps heading away from the study and sighs in relief.  He sits up and pulls Stiles upright into his arms.

 

“I have to go.  I’m still on shift.”  He presses delicate kisses against the moles that mark Stiles’ jawline.  Stiles lifts a hand and cups Derek’s jaw, rubbing his thumb over Derek’s lips.  The gentle brush back and forth makes them tingle madly and he swoops forward to steal a proper kiss from Stiles’ mouth and delights in hearing the sigh that he makes.

 

Standing Derek adjusts his uniform and the heavy weight of his still swollen cock in his pants.  Stiles looks up at him dazedly from the couch.

 

“When can I see you again?”  Derek asks.  _Say tomorrow, say tomorrow, say tomorrow..._

 

“Uh it’s not too pushy if I say tomorrow is it?”  Stiles stands up and looks at him hopefully and Derek can feel his chest expand and lighten with relief.

 

“I like pushy...pushy is good.”  Derek smiles happily and he hears Stiles sharply inhale his eyes riveted to his face.

 

“You should smile more often.”  Stiles says in a strangled voice.

 

“I get a feeling I will be from now on.”  Derek reaches down and clasps his hand.  “Was your birthday today?”

 

“No, it was during the week.  I went out to dinner with my Dad and some close friends.  Tonight was just meant to be a small party, but Jackson...Lydia’s boyfriend, the big douche invited some of his clique.  Danny’s okay and I wouldn’t have minded, but the rest are as douchy as Jackson or worse.”  Stiles shrugs his irritation.

 

Derek nods, as it confirms what he'd suspected earlier about Stiles' circle of friends.  “So tomorrow morning I come off shift at 6am.  How about you meet me for breakfast?  The diner off Main.” 

 

“I know the one. Dad and the other Deputies go there a lot.” 

 

“Make sure you drink plenty of water overnight...help flush that alcohol out of your system.  I don’t want your judgement impaired tomorrow.”  Seeing Stiles’ curious look, Derek adds.  “You can tell me again that you want to be my boyfriend.”

 

Stiles leans into him those long fingers playing with the top edge of his gun belt, tugging on it, drawing him in to bump their hips together and Derek can feel that hunger rise in him again as he watches.  “So if I’m not under the influence of alcohol tomorrow will you let me do that other thing?”

 

Stiles flicks a quick look up at him from under his lashes and Derek doesn’t think he means it to be seductive but damn if his body doesn’t react that way.  He can feel his whole body tighten, desire winding him up tighter than any spring.  He knows he shouldn’t ask, it’s probably asking for trouble but he can’t resist.   “What other thing?”

 

“Sucking you off.”  Stiles’ voice gets deep and silky as he says it and Derek can feel fireworks light up his spine as his nervous system overloads.  God...he can see it, see that red mouth stretched wide around his dick as he fucks into it, into that wet heat.  Saliva and pre-come mixing and sliding down over his chin to drip onto Stiles’ bare chest, coating his nipples, and when he comes...when he fucking comes he’s not going to stop shuttling his cock back and forth through the thick cream, he’s going to keep pushing every drop down Stiles’ throat until it’s all gone.

 

Which is why he has to get away from him before he tries to make his dreams reality.   He picks him up and dumps him over the back of the couch, arms and legs flailing wildly in the air as he bounces.

 

“Not if I do you first...fuck I’m so glad you’re 18.”  Derek growls out heatedly.  Before walking to the door and flicking the lock open.

 

“Derek.”  Stiles calls out urgently from behind him and Derek pauses hand on the doorknob and turns around to see Stiles has scrambled up onto his knees and is looking over the back of the couch at him.  The look on his overheated face is uncertain.  “I’ll see you in the morning?” 

 

Derek can hear the vulnerability in his voice and he nods, can hear the doorknob under his hand creak warningly as his grip tightens, knuckles white.  He begins to pant.  “If you aren’t there I’ll come looking for you and you don’t want me to hunt you down unless you’re prepared to pay the price.” 

 

Stiles’ eyes widen as he hears the dark promise of sensual punishment.  “I’ll be there.  I want to.”

 

Derek smiles and feels as if he’s shed some terrible weight that’s held him down and his very being feels so light and...and is this what it feels like to be completely happy?  It’s been so long he’d forgotten. 

 

“Lets get rid of some of your unwanted guests.”  Derek pulls out his mobile phone and sends a text to Erica, the radio dispatcher at the station.  Since he’d joined the Department, Erica Reyes had nominated herself his best friend and he’d been surprised at how easily he’d accepted it.  She was fun, a little bit wild, actually a lot wild and madly in love with her boyfriend, Vernon Boyd who had the misfortune to be a fireman, that rivalry between PD and FD would never get old.

 

Derek walks back into the lounge room and looks at the teenagers smug and yes...Stiles is right definitely douchy.  He walks to the stereo unit and turns it off before looking around.  There are some protests and a low murmur as they whisper amongst themselves.

 

“There seems to have been some misunderstanding.  I am Deputy Sheriff Hale from the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department and there are a number of cars parked out the front that are about to be towed away unless they are gone in five minutes.”  Derek puts a little bit of Alpha into it and can see that for many of them their primal hindbrain is sending them a ‘predator warning’, but there’s always one.

 

“Bullshit.  You’re just the stripper Jackson told us about...the one that loser Stilinski has to pay to get some action.”  Derek can feel his face go hard and his eyes narrow as they zero in on the big sweaty guy in the corner.  The same one that heckled Stiles before.  He’s going to have a little conversation with that guy very soon.  Greenberg.  He won’t forget the name.

 

“59018 can you confirm the address for the tow trucks?  Over.”  Erica’s voice sounds clear and professional in the sudden silence.  Derek unclips the mike from where it sits on his shoulder and holds it to his mouth.

 

“Roger dispatch.  Confirming address is 221 Parkway Drive.  Over.”  Derek looks at the kids who are staring at him now with wide eyes as they all recognise the address.

 

“59018 eta five minutes.  Dispatch out.”

 

Derek gives them all a glare letting the tiniest hint of red eye seep in and en masse they rush to the front door and he can see Stiles plastering himself to the wall to avoid the stampeding herd.  Within seconds the room is practically empty apart from Allison and Scott who look at him gratefully as they hold hands, a dark haired good looking boy with islander blood in him somewhere sitting on some big puffy floor cushions and in his lap sits an equally good looking blonde curly haired boy who looks like an innocent choir boy until he pushes his face back against the islander boy’s throat and licks a long stripe up it with a wicked grin at Derek.  A blonde clean cut model type puffs his chest out and the scowl that he gives Derek makes him want to put out a paw and slap him down like the insolent, foolish pup he is.  A red haired girl stands near him and they smell like sex.  Out of all of them he’d be more worried about the pretty little red haired girl that watches him with cool calculation.

 

He gives them all a nod and turns to Stiles who is standing out in the foyer, the front door wide open behind him.  His golden brown eyes dominate his face and Derek’s at his side and draws him outside to the front step.

 

“Stiles?”  Derek asks.

 

“You’re a were.  Does my Dad know?”  Stiles asks, his voice shaky.

 

“Yes he does.  He’s the one that hired me because of it.  I’m a werewolf Stiles.”  He can see the younger man’s eyes go even wider at that statement and he can literally hear the wheels turn inside his head.  “There’s not many of us left and because I’m an Alpha there’s not many places that will let me do this...help people.  It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

 

“Were you going to tell me?”  Stiles asks quietly, not meeting his eyes.

 

“Yes.  At breakfast when we were going to talk about being boyfriends and mutual blow jobs.”  Derek’s relieved to hear Stiles’ snort of laughter at that.  “I wasn’t going to keep this from you Stiles.  Is it a problem?”

 

_No...no...no...say no...please..._

 

“No of course not.. I was just worried that you may have thought you had to hide it from me.”  Stiles steps forward and wraps his arms around Derek’s waist and hugs him tight.  Relief washes over Derek as he holds the younger man.

 

“I really need to go.  I’ll see you in the morning.”  Derek tips Stiles’ face up and gently presses his mouth to the wide red one that drives him crazy. 

 

As he walks down the pathway he looks over his shoulder and sees Stiles watching him go, smiles at the enthusiastic wave he gets.  Rounding the hedgerow he almost bumps into a dark figure lugging a portable stereo in his arms.  With his Alpha senses he can see the other man clearly in the dim light and he has to restrain himself from lunging at the guy dressed up in a police officer’s uniform, a NYPD one, the fake badge glints against the dark blue and a pair of silver handcuffs swing off his hip.

 

“Oh man did they call you in...I wasn’t that late.”  The guy looks pissed.  “Fucking kids...drove all the way here for nothing, not even a bit of head.”

 

Derek folds his arms so he doesn’t rip the jerk’s head clean off.

 

“I’ve just shut that party down.”  Derek subtly steps in front of the other guy, or maybe not so subtly going by the way his eyes widen.

 

“Damn.  I’ve been looking forward to this all night.  Did you see the birthday boy?”  The guy is good looking Derek supposes, his teeth flash excessively white and gleaming.  “I’d heard he was a cute little vir-”

 

Derek growls.  Steps right in close and can feel his fangs drop and his sight gets a red tinge to it and he knows that his eyes are Alpha red.  The guy whimpers and Derek can scent his fear, a sickly sour thing that makes Derek’s stomach churn.

 

“You’re going home now and you are going to forget all about this...birthday boy and you will not accept anymore jobs from Lydia Martin and if you hear the name Stilinski you will avoid them at all costs.  Do you understand me?”  The other guy nods his head up and down so hard and fast that Derek’s almost afraid that it’s going to come off.

 

“So what are you still doing here?”  The rumble that he lets out is low and threatening and he can see the whites of the creepy stripper’s eyes before he backs away and then takes off his heart thundering like a frightened rabbit’s and Derek has to clamp down on the instinct to chase.

 

It’s going to be a long night.

 

 

It’s twenty minutes later and a red Volvo sedan pulls out in front of him as it exits a fast food outlet and the vehicle plate is one of those from outside the party.  When he checks the owner details Derek can’t control the wide smile that stretches his cheeks.

 

Adam Greenberg. 

 

Derek flicks on his vehicle’s flashing lights and lets his siren give one clear ‘whoop’ and parks in behind the sedan when it pulls over to the side of the road.  Derek grabs his torch and gets out of his Department vehicle, one hand resting on the grip of his gun because it’s procedure when approaching a stopped vehicle and it’s ingrained in him now.  He can feel his fangs descend again and doesn’t bother to try and retract them.

 

It’s going to be a long night until he can finally see Stiles in the morning and kiss him again and this looks like the perfect opportunity to speak to Greenberg about his attitude to Derek’s almost-boyfriend.

 

He knew coming to Beacon Hills was a good thing.

 

He’s got a new job and the most beautiful young man as a potential boyfriend, life couldn’t get any better.

 

He leans down to the window and shines his torch in.  “Licence and registration please.” 

 

When he hears the squeak of fear from the driver he smirks.  Guess he was wrong about that.  

 

It could.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Beginning of the Road](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846345) by [TheBitchcrafter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBitchcrafter/pseuds/TheBitchcrafter)




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